


Forever May Be Enough

by kaylakaboo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ANGSTY ANGST ANGST, Angst and Feels, F/M, Fluffy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:55:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22785199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylakaboo/pseuds/kaylakaboo
Summary: 5 Years after the snap and losing everyone, including the love of your life, you take Scott’s semi crazy sounding plan straight to Tony. Basically bits and pieces of Endgame, but screw canon.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 45





	Forever May Be Enough

“It’s not possible.” Tony says simply. “I’m sorry.” He adds quieter. You feel Steve tense, Natasha’ s shoulders fall. You’re almost certain Scott is vibrating.

You however, are frozen. Stuck leaning against the rough grain of a wooden pillar, eyes trained on the lake at the edge of the property. The clear blue burns your throat, turns your stomach inside out. His words swirl around your head and lap at the edges of the last wall of sanity you have left.

It’s the same ones that have haunted you for years. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. They weave their way through your body until you hear them fall from different lips.

Broken consonants and wide blue eyes looking up to you, filled for the first time with true fear. Crumbling fingertips leave ash in the sweat of your cheek as they desperately try to grasp something. Anything. Shaking fingers trail through long hair in an effort to keep him with you and you beg him to hold on just a little longer. You scream for Steve to do something, but you can see in his eyes defeat has already carved its home within him.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky whispers below you.

“Please. Bucky, please.” You beg with a sob, but he disappears anyways. You fold into yourself, howl your grief as you grapple at the empty space before you. Pain sears in your chest and you can taste rust on your tongue. Heaving gasps catch in your throat making you fear you may actually be suffocating. “Make it stop.” You beg.

Steve has to drag you away.

Natasha nudges you and you break from your trance only to see Tony walking away.

“Please.” The word breaks through louder than you intended and wince. “Tony, please.” You add quieter.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” There are those stupid words again.

He grabs your hand, presses the pad of his thumb into your knuckles, and moves to meet your gaze, clocks the cracked skin of your lips, the dark skin seeping beneath your eyes. Worry builds in the pit of his stomach.

“Why don’t you stay for a while? Get some fresh air, Pepper can teach you about composting. Would be a great time. Morgan would love it.” Tony offers. When you don’t respond, only look off into the distance past his shoulder seemingly caught in a memory, he looks to Steve. He shrugs a response and slightly shakes his head. They all know you’re not well. You haven’t been for a while, but he’s forgotten how to help you. “We still have a room for you if you change your mind.”

His hand slips from yours and with it, your last piece of hope.

Steve walks to the car with you, his hand on your back. When he opens the door and helps you in, you want to scream at him that you are not fragile, you have not broken, but you can’t form the words.

**

Bruce turns Scott into a baby, among other things, and you excuse yourself to get some air. You were clinging so desperately to this second chance, but the harder you grasped, the quicker it seemed to slip away. Steve recognizes the look of you teetering on the edge and follows you.

“We’ll figure it out.” He says behind you.

Raking your hands down your face, you turn to him. “I know, I know.” You huff out. “This is just bringing everything back up. I guess you could say I’m not handling that well or whatever.” 

“I know it’s hard, Y/N.” 

“I just miss him so much.” You whisper.

It’s times like these he wishes Tony came around more often, or that you’d accept the countless offers to stay at the cabin. Time had allowed for apologies, but Steve still carried the guilt from Siberia and your relationship with Tony had forever been tainted after the accords.

Tony doesn’t know if he hates that he made you choose sides or the fact you didn’t choose him more.

Still, he knew you in ways the others couldn’t. Two souls born of similar circumstances; he was always able to read you. He had taken you under his wing after stumbling onto you what felt like almost a lifetime ago. He considered it his job to look after you, never failing to protect you in battle. Despite you arguing you can hold your own.

When Tony pulls up, seemingly answering Steve’s unspoken wishes, his relief is palpable. But when he pulls the shield out of his trunk to return it, your relief sends you flying into his arms.

He stumbles back, slightly caught off guard. “Oh, thank god.” You mumble into his neck.

**

You travel back in time to New York, get a kick out of seeing a younger Tony again and remind him you are well versed with old man jokes. Steve comments that you sound more like yourself, Tony agrees.

“Hope is a powerful thing, boys.” You smile.

Somehow you manage to hold onto it when Tony tells you they have to try 70s New Jersey for the Tesseract. You try to convince him you should go in his place, beg him to let you do this for him. He smiles softly, shakes his head, and disappears.

**

You mourn the loss of Natasha. It settles deep in your bones and you wonder if this will be the thing that breaks you. Steve, ever stoic, reminds you of what you’re all fighting for and he sounds so much like her.

**

Bruce snaps his fingers. There’re several explosions, you’re drowning on the lower level, and then you’re thrown into the next battle for the fate of the world before you’re even able to catch your breath. It’s a scene from your nightmares and so reminiscent of the worst day of your life.

Smoke thick in the air, an outrider pins you down. Its monstrous face snaps at you with rancid breath and you push back as hard as you can. The moment you think this is it, a bullet rips through it spraying blood into the open air.

“Perfect timing.” You mumble as you push the body off you. There’s a chuckle from behind you.

Oh, you know that voice. It whispers to you light as air on your worst days, sings lullabies when you can’t sleep, ghosts its lips down your neck.

“I’m getting pretty good at saving you.” Bucky quips behind you. You don’t want to look, you can’t. Fears that he will only disappear again will not leave you be. He kneels before you, concern creasing his brow. “This isn’t the best place for a break, doll.”

You finally meet his eyes and the air leaves your body. He reaches for you, a ghost manifested, and you flinch away. It couldn’t be, could it? You hover a hand beside his face, graze tentative fingers down his temple and you ache.

“Bucky?” You whisper, broken. You repeat his name again with more weight.

“Unless you know another handsome guy with a metal arm.”

He catches the tears as they fall from your waterline and you lunge for him. Wrap your body around his, bury your head in his chest, breathe him in. It’s sweat and dirt, but it’s him. Truly him. This moment had taunted your dreams for the last five years.

You pull away to take a moment to look at him. Not a day aged, the same soldier you’ve always loved. He gives you a crooked smile and you trace his lip with your thumb.

“We should really get back to it, darlin’.”

You smile at his voice, let his low timber soothe the scars time has left. “Just a moment, please.” He nods. You lean forward, replace your finger with your lips and revel in the taste of home.

“Alright, let’s finish this.”

**

Pepper clings to you when the doctors say Tony will survive. You hold her and whisper soothing words to hide your own tears. Rhodey takes over for you, ignores your protest when you tell him you’re fine. The bags beneath your eyes and your bitten down nail beds tell him a different story.

Bucky finds you outside on a nearby bench pulling at the loose strings of your sweater.

“I hear Stark is going to pull through.”

You smile up at him and pull his hand into your lap when he sits beside you. “He’s too stubborn to let death win.” You chuckle.

“Seems that’s something else you learned from him.”

You’re quiet for a beat and he hopes you’ll take this moment to open up to him. You were different, that much was blatantly obvious. You carried yourself stiffer, your tone had become colder. He tried to ask the others, but it had been subtle changes over the years, things they never noticed. Clint even suggests there may have been no change at all.

But he knew better. For you it was five years, but to him it was five hours. He just wanted to help you.

You tilt your head towards him, turn up the corners of your lips. “Good thing, too.” You joke instead.

**

Steve returns with Natasha. You don’t ask him how, they don’t offer.

**

Bucky awakens to you grunting in your sleep. Your fists have the sheets gripped in a vice; your knuckles are white. You mumble something he can’t quite make out before screaming yourself awake. He pulls you to him quickly. Slips his hand in your hair while he whispers affirmations that he is okay and you are safe.

He waits until your sobs slow to just a hiccup.

“Talk to me.” He pleads softly.

You push out of his lap. “I’m fine, really. Just a standard superhero nightmare. Run of the mill. Go back to bed, Buck.” You flash him a smile, all tear-stained rosy cheeks and bloodshot eyes, and his heart still flutters.

He watches you get up for water and finds himself about to lay back down. You had gotten so good at disarming him, he almost didn’t catch what you had done.

“No.” He says before you’ve crossed the threshold of your room.

You turn back to him and raise a brow. “Well, I supposed you could stay up? I’m not your mother.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He counters.

You advert your eyes and cross your arms before your chest. Bruce had taught him cues to look for when he asked others for tips. He knew your arms were meant to act as a barrier, which meant he was encroaching on something you didn’t want him near.

He reaches a hand out to you. “Come here.” You don’t budge. “Please.” He adds.

You huff, but walk to take it. He guides you to sit before him, but you’re still unable to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me everything, or even anything, I just want to help you. Five years is a long time, doll. It couldn’t have been easy to go through.”

You’re quiet, only tracing the metal lines of his hand. He lets you turn his arm over, wordlessly gives you his other when you reach for it. Tony said it was how you grounded yourself. Feeling something on your fingertips allowed you to anchor yourself to something real.

“I’d never tell the others, but I think I gave up for a long time.” You start quietly, keeping your eyes down. “After we killed Thanos and found out the stones were gone. Steve tried so hard, he did, but I think it’s hard to hold someone else together when you yourself are falling apart.” You gnaw on your bottom lip to stop its quivering. “Losing you was the hardest thing I think I’ve ever had to survive.” You barely whisper.

He squeezes your hand in support. “I’m here.”

You clear your throat and swallow down your emotions. “You are.” You marvel. “The whole world said it would never happen, that we needed to just rebuild what we still had.”

“I’m s-“

“Don’t, please. You came back to me and that is all I could have ever asked for. It’s just going to take a minute for me to make peace with the time we lost, but I’m getting there.” You place a hand on his cheek and he leans into your touch. “You just simply being here is more than enough.”

**

He makes you pancakes in the morning. The smell is what wakes you and you follow it all the way to one of the kitchens of the compound. You find him standing before the stove, back facing you. He’s still in what he wore to bed. Sweats, no shirt. The muscles of his back tightening with his movements distracts you enough that you have to shake your head to clear the number of less than innocent thoughts that come to mind.

“Well isn’t this treat.” You say from behind him.

He laughs and bows before motioning for you to take a seat. He puts a plate before you, topped exactly how you like it.

“Who went out and got all of this?” You ask.

Bucky licks some whipped cream from his thumb. “Guess Natasha had a sweet tooth.” He shrugs. 

You plop a bite into your mouth. “What’s the occasion?” 

“It’s been a while, Tony’s on the mend, Steve’s still set on retiring for now, and the others are laying low. We have to decide what we’re going to do.”

You hum and raise a brow. “Awful big decision for first thing in the morning, my love.”

He nods in agreement. “Still a decision to be made, though.” He takes advantage of you full mouth. “We could stay here, run some trainings, monitor some missions with the new head of SHIELD. I think we’ve earned a break from saving the world for a bit.”

“Or?” You prompt, sensing the word on the tip of his tongue.

“We trade this life for one of our own. A house, a yard,” He lists. “Kids.” He adds quieter.

Your eyes widen. An awfully big discussion for first thing in the morning indeed, but clearly something that’s been on his mind.

“It’s just something to think about, but there is a question that needs answered. What do we do now?” He asks you.

You swallow the last of your breakfast and smile, commit the image of him hopeful and buzzing before you to memory. “Well, we have forever, don’t we? Let’s figure it out tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr! kayla-kaboo


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